Parked at the side of the road on the way up to Cheorwon, Gangwon Province / Image by Jon Dunbar

By Jon DunbarA new music festival was coming to Korea. And while the lineup for the first DMZ Peace Train Festival promised a great two days of live music, its remote location in Cheorwon County, Gangwon Province, only promised trouble.I figured the best way to get there and back was on my own. So I leapt on my trusty yellow steed and headed out on Sunday. My route would take me east of Seoul and then north, as I had a few stops I was interested in seeing along the way. Plus I had to avoid the toll roads, which forbid all two-wheeled vehicles. Navigation apps offered multiple routes, but I chose the one that seemed the most familiar to me, exiting Seoul past the Walkerhill Hotel. The Walkerhill gets its name from a U.S. Army general who died in a car crash during the 1950-53 Korean War, an ominous portent for the road ahead. North Korean leader Kim Jong-un's sister Kim Yo-jong stayed here earlier this year, which is more the kind of foreshadowing I prefer. Downhill from the Walkerhill is the former Guui Water Treatment Plant, which closed in 2011 and was handed over to street performers. They turned it into the Seoul Street Arts Creation Center, sort of a mad scientist's laboratory where street performers could hone their craft out of the public eye. As I drove by, the lot was deserted except for a guard dog and security guard at the entrance, but I could see what looked like a circus tent standing there.

A circus tent is visible at Seoul Street Arts Creation Center, the former Guui Water Treatment Plant. / Image by Jon Dunbar

Past there, I entered Guri City and the roads became large, fast-moving and busy, too much so to risk stopping on the shoulder. I passed by what I believe is a military base, with a huge mast and the largest freestanding South Korean flag I've ever seen. Traffic rushed me around a corner, where I was confronted by these giant fleshy-looking versions of village totems.

Traffic was heavy out here, but I worked my way gradually up the heavily forested hills out here, finding myself within the capital region's lungs full of fresh air. I stopped at a pet supplies outlet to buy some exotic cat foods. Whenever I go to another city, I always try to bring back a new delicacy for my cats to try. If I fail to pick anything up, I just buy it from a corner store in Seoul and tell them it's from wherever I went; they're pretty dumb and have never called me on it. But this store paid off, as I found some cat food venison, an animal my cats haven't tried yet. Soon after, I broke through to the Bukhan River, marking the end of the first leg of my visit. Around there, I witnessed a horrific sight, a squirrel lying in the road in a pool of its own blood twitching wildly, probably after getting hit by a car that left it immobile and in pain. I thought about stopping to put it out of its misery, but I'm not sure my scooter would make the most merciful execution tool, and the gore from running over the poor thing would probably cause problems with my traction, not to mention spattering the vehicle and myself with blood. The image of that poor creature haunted me for the next while, and I hoped shortly after me a car rolled over it headfirst. I'd hoped to stop at KOFIC Namyangju Studios, a former movie studio that also served as a theme park for visitors. It included an actual historic building or two, plus a full recreation of the Joint Security Area. The park closed recently, and I wasn't totally sure what to expect: either the whole thing would be torn down, or I'd show up and find it completely unattended. However, the front gate was barricaded and a security guard in a shack got out of his chair to turn me back. I got the impression he was used to doing this several times an hour. Not sure what the future holds for this place but I hope it doesn't go to waste.

My most recent visit to Namyangju KOFIC Studios was Nov. 6, 2011, when this photo was taken. / Image by Jon Dunbar

From here, I followed the river north, passing through a very pleasant river valley filled with resorts and water recreation. I stopped at Dongwha Culture Village, which ― full disclosure ― is owned by the same company that owns The Korea Times. Built right up to the riverside, this hotel complex looks like brutalism and Googie architecture had a baby. Building materials are bare concrete and metal, and the building forms resemble a U.S.-style roadside motel, except they are oriented so everyone gets a view of the river, rather than to a parking lot.

From then on, the ride turned into a straight shoot north. At one intersection I stopped near this police officer mannequin, which I'd like to call a scaredriver. You see these things all over the country, mimicking construction workers or traffic cops, often based on a conspicuously dapper retired fashion mannequin, sometimes even with moving parts. This one just stood there, ensuring we didn't run the intersection. You'll note, further in the distance is a big concrete structure that would turn this road into a barricade in seconds if necessary.

It took me about three hours to reach Cheorwon, which is not bad considering the indirect route I took and the stops I made. Shortly after passing a sign welcoming me to Gangwon Province, I passed through an arch welcoming me to "Dramatic Cheorwon."

The entrance to Cheorwon still reminds me a little of Googie architecture. / Image by Jon Dunbar

In the original division of the Korean Peninsula, Cheorwon was wholly North Korean territory. During the Korean War this area saw heavy combat, and became known as the Iron Triangle based on its strategic importance. When the dust settled in 1953 after the Armistice was signed, the South ended up with a little more of Cheorwon, while the North had Gaeseong. Cheorwon remains a divided county, with its upper half known to North Koreans as Chorwon County in Kangwon Province by their romanization system.The festival site was the Cheorwon Facilities Management Office, formerly known as the Iron Triangle Battlefield Hall. There is a massive hall here, traditional in shape and gray in color and looking like it would fit right in among Pyongyang's architecture, except it's surrounded by old war toys such as planes, tanks and cannons.

The performances alternated between two stages on either side of the hall, with a food truck area in between, meaning between every set the audience basically reset.I was in time for SsingSsing, a Korean folk music meets glam rock, plus with crossdressing. After that, everyone went from the Peace Stage to the Play Stage for Jambinai, basically a hard rock band performed on traditional Korean instruments.Near the Play Stage was Goseokjeong Land, a virtually abandoned amusement park. Some of the festival attendees wandered through, and occasionally one of the rides would have enough people to go through the motions, with live music playing in the background.

First he played a couple acoustic solo songs, before inviting former No Brain member Cha-Cha out for a couple songs. Then he invited Crying Nut on stage, playing a couple songs together before letting them have the stage for their own set. As the sunlight faded, I mingled with the crowd, observing Koreans old and young enjoying the festival. This was nothing like the buttoned-down Korea I'd first visited in 1996, back when Crying Nut was just an obscure band playing in Hongdae basements, and it was still dangerous to talk about peace with North Korea. Looking at the mothers and fathers there ― many younger than me ― I wondered how their children would remember this event as they grow up and what they would think of the music ― punk as a genre is already older than 40.

Past and present members of Crying Nut, No Brain and Sex Pistols pose for a group photo with the audience on the stage of the DMZ Peace Train Music Festival in Cheorwon. / Image by Jon Dunbar

After the set, I had a long scooter ride back to Seoul and my cats ahead of me…Riding all the way out here and back, helped me wrap my head around the geographic distance between the two Koreas. It's not the shortest route, but I wonder what it will be like if I make it again next year. Maybe someday in the future, I'll be able to drive up here and just keep going, through the DMZ and into North Korea.